


The Whispering Room {James' POV}

by whisperingtales



Series: Dancing with your ghost [2]
Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, It's all in the title, James POV, Steamy, idk what else to say, whispering room take 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingtales/pseuds/whisperingtales
Summary: Ever wondered what was going on through James' head in the Whispering Room scene? Come find out ;)
Relationships: Cordelia Carstairs/James Herondale
Series: Dancing with your ghost [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184720
Kudos: 15





	The Whispering Room {James' POV}

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, there! Not much to say, just hope you enjoy <3
> 
> DISCLAIMER: lines in italic are actual extracts from Chain of Gold !!!

The only thoughts going through his mind as he locked himself with Cordelia in the room, were of her dancing, arching her back at the pace of the music, the slashing of her sword against the hot air.

When he saw Cordelia’s fingers trail along the desk, so close to the fruit bowl, he could only imagine what could happen if either of them had a taste.

_ “Be careful,” _ James warned her.  _ “I suspect that is faerie fruit. It has no effects on warlocks _ _ —no magical effect at least. But on humans…” _

She drew her hand back but said, _ “surely it does not harm you if you do not eat it.” _

_ “Oh, it does not. But I have met those who have tasted it. They say the more you have of it, the more you want, and the more you ache when you can have no more.”  _ He eyed Cordelia as if she were the forbidden fruit, and swallowed.  _ “And yet… I have always thought _ — _ is _ not  _ knowing what it tastes like just another form of torture? The torture of wondering?”  _ He knew his eyes had darkened.

Cordelia’s red hair seemed alive in the dim light of the room, ablaze; her dark skin glowing. He could’ve sworn colour had risen to her cheeks from his gaze.

They both eyed the door, alarmed, as they heard someone trying to barge in.

Glamours wouldn’t work against downworlders, so James tried to think of something that would help them. And though he didn’t come up empty… he hoped Cordelia wouldn’t kill him for this.

_ “We’re not meant to be in here—” _ she said, but was cut short when James’ arms went around her waist, pulling her closer, lifting her up against him.

And then his mouth was on hers and a little gasp was the only evidence of her surprise. James felt his pulse jump, his breath barely catching, as he slid one hand into her hair, the other caressing her cheek. 

His intention had been to make them pass as downworlders having an assignation in the Whispering Room, but damn him if this hadn’t been all he could think about ever since she emerged out of the carriage in that bronze dress, clinging to her in all the right places, making her look like a goddess of fire.

He practically hissed when Cordelia’s arms wrapped around his neck and her body arched against him. James felt flames running through his veins, felt hot all over, and suddenly he couldn’t keep his hands still.

His only answer at the nervous laughter at the door was to deepen the kiss, tightening his hand around her waist and drifting the other one towards the back of her neck. She tasted of chocolate and strawberry tea; it made his head spin. 

_ “Oh,” _ she breathed against his lips.

Even though whoever had come into the room had left, they did break the kiss but none of them drew apart. 

As he felt her fingers stroking his neck, right over the star shaped scar above his collar, his breath hitched.

“Daisy _ … my Daisy… _ ” 

_ “I think more people are coming.” _

The lie that rolled off her tongue was all he needed to hear before he pulled her flush against him again. Once one of her shoes came off, she kicked the other away as James kissed her, firm yet sweetly, savouring her. And then his lips travelled south, down her cheekbone, her jaw. It was his undoing. 

James unfastened the strap of Cortana with one hand, and traced the bodice of her dress with the other. He felt pure desire coursing through his body, the spinning room being the only thing keeping him grounded against the sense of dizziness. 

Cordelia angled her head giving him free will for his lips to leave her jaw and attend her neck. James leaned Cortana next to the wall and tightened his grip on her body. They stumbled away from the bookcase, James half carrying her, onto the massive desk.

Aa she arched her back against it and towards James’ body, his hands followed the curve of hers; from her waist and up up up they went. She gasped at the contact and he took it as a sign to keep at it. His fingers found the neckline of her gown and then he was touching the bare skin of her shoulder. She shivered and James found himself looking at her, bewildered. He felt all of his senses heighten. The sight of her, the feel of her were driving him mad. He shrugged off his black coat, and occupied his hands with her, lifting and putting her down on the desk. Cordelia hooked her legs around his waist, and as they kissed, with James’ hands on her face, her hair fell around them like a curtain of fire.

Never in his life, not with Grace, not with anyone, had he ever felt this alive, this driven by passion and desire. And he was about to combust like stars exploding in the sky.

He found himself drawn up to Cordelia as her back met the wood, and he leaned over her, one arm above her head. 

To him, she’d always been Cordelia, Lucie’s best friend, who occasionally became his friend as well. But now, kissing like both their lives depended on it, she was  _ his  _ Daisy, his favourite flower in an overflowing garden. 

He lost all sense of self as she ran her hands all over his chest, his arms braced over her, and tangled her fingers in his unruly black curls.

He swore silently as he heard someone open the door to the room. After a fraction of a second in which he’d been utterly frozen, he stepped back from the desk, seizing his coat, and handed it to Cordelia as she hurriedly sat up.

It was Matthew who stood on the threshold, staring at them, completely astounded. He prayed to whatever angels were listening that he wouldn’t say anything, that he wouldn’t draw him apart after they exited Hell Ruelle to inquire about his unholy actions.

Though part of him was thankful for the interruption, for if they hadn’t been intercepted, he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to stop. 

  
  



End file.
